Of Yellow Submarines and James Bond
by Mushstache
Summary: In which Alfred asks questions...and Arthur tries to hang on to the last string of sanity he has.


"So...You all don't have Yellow Submarines?" Alfred wondered from his seat, if you can call it that, on the couch. You see, he was upside down with his head hanging off the end of the sofa on this awfully hot summer day. The heated Brit sitting next to him, Indian style, with a laptop on his lap, twitched one of his thick brows.

"No, Alfred. You twit..." he said, vaguely annoyed. Vaguely because he was a gentleman, and gentlemen have incomprehensible amounts of patience...Or so he told himself.

Truth is, Alfred had been throwing all these outrageous questions at him relentlessly. Arthur, quite frankly, was getting sick of it. But even if Arthur didn't answer the big American oaf's questions, he'd still attack him with questions, pressing out an answer from the Brit.

"Can you all see fairies and stuff like that? Does everyone get around on Unicorns instead of cars over there?" Alfred asked, obviously making fun of Arthur with that question. Arthur threateningly lifted up a ball point pen from his side where he was fixing his essay paper. Alfred put his hands up as if saying he means no harm, and Arthur put the pen down gently. His face blank.

"So...You're all not super secret agents with cool gadgets and shoe phones?" Alfred looked up at Arthur with hopeful, shimmering eyes.

"No, and the shoe phone is cognate with _Get Smart_, you yank! An _American _series!"

"Cog-_what_? Boy, you sure use big word Iggy! Why didn't you just use "related to" or something? It's easier." Alfred sat up and faced Arthur, this time leaning against the arm of the sofa with his feet pulled towards his chest.

"But then I couldn't possibly improve my vocabulary by using simple words, could I?" Arthur answered. He started typing his work that should have been half done by now if a certain American hadn't wondered in and started asking him all these ridiculous questions.

Sometimes Arthur wondered if it would've been better to be roommates with that nice, Norwegian boy who could also see magical beings. If he weren't so sensitive over the subject and hadn't thought the boy had been humoring him, he would have probably had a calmer life without all the unwanted ramblings about video games and American pop culture.

"No, but...Whatever! Anyways, do you guys have time traveling police boxes like in _Dr. Who_?" Alfred practically pounced on Arthur. Much to the Brit's discomfort.

"No, Alfred. We do not have time traveling police boxes...Where do you American's get this?" Arthur tried to pry the American off of him, fuming.

"Mostly your stuff that gets brought over here to the states from your place. Not as good as American TV shows or Movies, though. Anyways, Do you guys always carry around little tea cups and go "Pip pip, cheerio!" in that fancy accent you've got while walking around the streets of London?" Alfred asked calmly retaking his prior position, looking at his annoyed companion.

Arthur rubbed his temples and sighed, chanting a sort of mantra to himself. Almost sounding like macabre ways of killing someone with his name, Alfred thought, humoring the idea of his dear old Artie hating him and wanting to kill him. Alfred scoffed at the idea.

"No...Tell me, Alfred. Are you making fun of me?" Arthur asked in return, rather darkly Alfred noticed.

"What? No no no, Artie! I just wanted to know more about where you're coming from, that's all..." Alfred looked and sounded like a puppy who's just been kicked. Pouting and whimpering. Arthur looked over to the guy who always, **always**, had a smile on his face and a confident gaze. To think he'd go all sad puppy on him over this little thing...Arthur smiled a little.

"Stiff upper lip, mate! No offense taken. I just thought this was all a big joke to make fun of me, so I played along for a while. I should have known it all had to do with all the idiocies you've been exposed to!" Arthur laughed.

The sight and sound of it made Alfred look up and crack a small laugh himself, gradually growing into uncontrollable fits of laughter. Suddenly, more like abruptly, it stopped when a hand was shoved in front of the American's flushed face. He looked at it questioningly, then at the owner. Arthur looked back at him with a smile and shining eyes. Alfred laughed and shook his head. Arthur gave him a confused look that turned into a look of complete shock and started sputtering.

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU BIG OAF?" Arthur yelled indignantly. "Gerroff me, git!" He tried to push the huge, bulky, American off to no avail. Alfred laughed his 'Hero' laugh and hugged Arthur tighter.

"I knew we were buds, Artie!" Alfred said happily. "So to commemorate the day you finally smiled in front of me...Let's go get ice cream!" He declared. Arthur stared at him incredulously, mouth slightly agape. Alfred stared back at him, big smile once again in place. Arthur closed his eyes and chuckled.

"Yeah, sure. Let's go before I change my mind, you prat!" Arthur got up and closed his laptop, deciding that his essay could wait for later. Alfred stood up as well, going to his room to retrieve his wallet. Yelling something out of his room that sounded like "My treat, Iggy!". Arthur shook his head at the new nickname. He'd have to ask him later how he comes up with them.

"Bloody git...How'd you manage to get to me? I barely know you..." Arthur trailed off, pondering whether he met Alfred for a reason. He waved away those thoughts, he hated thinking about destiny and whatnot. He decided that he'd just focus on the present. Plus, some ice cream didn't sound too bad either. Alfred was sure to make the trip interesting.

* * *

**Well...Yeah. I was listening to Yellow Submarine by The Beatles and thought of this so...XDD**

**Please review? Tell me if I did anything wrong...  
**


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